It's Not At The Bottom Of A Bottle
by courtneymarie87
Summary: The most recent "A" punishment has taken things too far for Spencer. She takes to the bottle to find some relaxation. But does the alcohol help her? Or does it lead her to the one person she needs most? Disclaimer: Do not own anything. Boo.


Spencer's parents were off doing god knows what again and her sister, Melissa, had finally moved into her finished apartment in Philadelphia. It was actually doing their relationship some good to not be living under the same roof anymore. As for her parents? They tried to act as normal as the Hastings parents could; she knew they were shaking their heads at her behind closed doors since she, Emily, Aria and Hanna had been arrested for tampering with Ali's murder weapon.

She was curled up on the couch in her living room, flames crackling out of the fireplace; a bottle of her father's finest whiskey staring at her from the table in between them. She had taken it out of the liquor cabinet after she got home that evening and found a note from her parents saying they'd be gone until Sunday morning. They left her a hundred dollar bill for food and to fill up her gas tank. She wasn't exactly sure where they thought she would be going or who she would be feeding. It wasn't like she was seeing much of anyone these days.

Ever since the night of their arrest, things had been extremely tense between the four girls. They talked politely on occasion, but mostly kept to themselves. Each one of them had admitted they were exhausted from the months of torture thrust upon them by "A" and decided it might be better to keep their distance. If they weren't spending so much time plotting how to avoid the next hit, maybe this person would believe they won and give it up.

She eased out of her head for a moment and back to the empty house. It was dark now, nothing was lighting the room except for the fire. Spencer had been in a daze ever since she took the bottle out of the cabinet. She wasn't sure what her intentions were for the night. She had ordered a pizza for dinner, but hadn't really felt like eating when it arrived. Now, she stood up and walked into the kitchen; she grabbed a plate and a clear rocks glass from the cabinet. Throwing some ice into the glass and a few pieces of pizza on the plate, she settled back onto the couch.

After a few bites, she picked up the bottle of whiskey and unscrewed the cap. She poured a generous amount over the ice and took a brave gulp. The light brown liquid warmed her throat as it descended into her stomach. It was potent, but she liked it. Spencer was not usually one to drink on her own or to drink much in general; she liked to be in control of her facilities and all accompanying situations.

But, this was at least the third weekend in a row her parents had left her to her own devices and she decided she felt like throwing a party. However, she was the only guest on the list. Somewhat disgusted that she and her friends had let "A" get the best of them, _this __is __just __what __that __bitch __wants_, she thought. What else were they supposed to do, though? Keep things going the way they had been and let this person... these people... whomever... target everyone and everything that meant anything to them?

A thought floated through her mind. This was a thought she had been trying her damnedest to keep away, but it often managed to creep in anyway.

_Toby._

She downed the contents of her glass and poured some more, this time leaving the cap off the bottle. She figured this wouldn't be her last refill.

It would be a bold faced lie to say that he wasn't the most important thing "A" had managed to take away from her. Sure, her friendships meant a lot to her, but he was... _everything_.

* * *

><p>She didn't know how much time had passed when she found herself twirling the cap of the whiskey bottle around in her hand as she balanced a half-full glass on her knees. One thing she did know, was that she was lonely. She was sick and tired of letting "A" dictate her life. She wanted to have what she wanted and do what she wanted.<p>

She picked up her glass and carefully slid it onto the table, looking around for her phone at the same time. When it was located, she squinted at the bright light of the screen and struggled to function her fingers properly enough to find her list of contacts. It only took a few seconds of obnoxious scrolling to find his name.

Opening a message template, she slowly touched the letters on the screen to form her plea. Three words were all she could really manage before she hit the send button.

**Please ****come ****over.**- Spencer

She just hoped it didn't take him long to respond. The alcohol was filling up her head; making her feel woozy and tired. It was important for her to speak with him now because somewhere in the depths of her mind, she was coherent and knew that when she awoke the next day; she would be rational enough not to reach out to him again.

A strange noise interrupted her inner-dialogue. Realizing it was her phone, she reached for it quickly and turned on the screen.

**Is ****everything ****okay?** - Toby

Spencer didn't have the energy or focus to explain anything via text message. She simply told him she needed to see him. He obliged and said that he would be there as soon as he could.

She tried to place her phone on the table in front of her, awkwardly dropping it onto the floor instead. She flopped on her back and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn't clear to her what was going to happen when Toby arrived. All she knew was that it had been too long since she was _allowed_ to be happy to see him. Too long since she was _allowed_ to put her arms around him. Too long since she was _allowed_ to feel his lips on hers.

Did she want to put him in danger? No. But did she want them to have to spend the rest of their lives miserable because she was trying so hard to protect him? Also, no. It just wasn't fair. So, tonight, consequences be damned; she was going to do whatever she wanted.

* * *

><p>She was startled by a loud rapping on the side door. It frightened her for a moment, until she glanced through the window and saw a familiar arm hanging by a familiar side. She got up off the couch a little bit too quickly and felt the room spin around her. Tumbling towards the door, she swung it open and threw her arms around the unsuspecting man behind it.<p>

"Tobyyyyyyyyy," she exclaimed loudly. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and she could feel his hands hesitantly patting the small of her back.

"Uh. Hi." He pulled away gently and his bright blue eyes searched her face. His chiseled jaw and messy hair came in and out of focus to her as they stood looking at one another. He had tried so hard to get her to let him back in; let him help her with whatever she was dealing with. He found it strange that she wanted to see him since the last time they'd spoken, she angrily told him to stay away from her.

"Youarepretty," she slurred as she poked him in the chest with one of her fingers. She looked up at him, as if she was surprised by what she felt when she touched him. "Oooh. Can you take your shirt off?," she asked before hiccuping.

He slowly moved her forward as he stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. He looked perplexed. "Spencer... are you drunk?"

"Nooo. I'm not...," she said as she turned to head back to the couch. Except the turn was a little too fast for her current state and she found her ass having a painful meeting with the floor. "Ow," she looked up at him from the ground and gestured with her hand, "maybe just a teeeensy bit drink... drunk... come down here with me."

She tugged Toby's arm and he lowered himself to the floor, sitting indian style in front of her. He couldn't help but smirk as he reached out and tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. Her makeup was smeared underneath her eyes and they glossed over as she looked at him.

"Are your parents here?," he asked softly, fully knowing the answer before the question left his mouth.

She shook her head no and scooted closer to him. "Let's make out."

Before he could protest, she was basically in his lap, grabbing him from behind the head and pulling his mouth towards hers. He could taste the whiskey on her breath, but it had been so long since the last time he was this close to her that he let himself get lost for a moment. Tongues roaming each others mouths, lips eager; it was clear that the time they had spent apart only deepened their want for one another.

Toby hastily came to his senses and realized that no matter how badly he had wanted to do this over the previous weeks, this was not the way it was supposed to happen. He kissed her back one last time before gently pushing her away. "Spence, we can't do this right now. You're drunk. You're not thinking straight."

She looked at him, offended and shook her head. "I. Am thinking. Just. Fine," she spat slowly. He could tell it was somewhat of a struggle for the words to escape her mouth. She stood up, swaying to the left and then to the right before standing in front of him steadily and pointing her finger down toward his face.

"Just because... I had a little bit of that... _stuff_... doesn't mean... I don't know... what... I... want."

She turned and stumbled over to the couch, crashing down on to it. "I want you," she mumbled," but it's _fine._ If you don't want me... you can find the door." She pointed to her right and wiggled her hand around in a circular motion. "It's over there somewhere."

He got up from the floor and noticed the half empty bottle on the table as he sat down in front of her. He was unsure how much of it she actually drank and how much had been missing from the bottle previously. He took her hands in his and looked down at them as he spoke.

"Spence. Of _course_ I want you. You are all I can ever remember wanting. Not like this, though. Something is really bothering you and I wish that you could tell me what it is. But you can't. I get it. I just want you to let me be here until you can. I just want you to let me _fight_for you."

When his speech was finished, he tilted his eyes up only to see that hers were closed. He sighed and then let out a small laugh. He didn't know how much she'd heard, if any, but it wasn't like it was the first time he'd told her these things. She knew and she felt the same way, even if it took half a bottle of whiskey for her admit it.

He turned and began to clean up her "dinner", putting the cap on the bottle and her plate in the dishwasher. Discarding the empty pizza box and placing the leftovers into the refrigerator. He flicked a light on in the living room before putting out the fire and turned to face the couch.

There she was, passed out, head resting on its overstuffed arm. Her hair was disheveled and she only had one slipper on. She looked a mess, but he loved her. He loved that when it came down to it, he was the one she wanted to see and he didn't mind a bit having to take care of her.

He slipped one arm underneath her legs and the other behind her back before lifting her up. She unconsciously nuzzled into his chest as he carried her up the stairs to her room. He pulled open her comforter as best he could with his hands full and gently placed her on the bed. As he was settling the blankets down on top of her and making sure she was resting on her side, her eyes began to flutter open.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi back."

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," she stuttered.

He smiled. "I don't care. I'm happy you wanted me here."

"Toby..."

"Yes, darling?"

"I love you."

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb as her eyes closed again. This was a fact he was aware of, at least, he always thought he so. And while she was groggy with alcohol, he knew she meant it.

After making sure she was soundly sleeping, he turned off the light next to her bed. He sat down in the chair across from her and settled in for the night. He didn't know what would happen when she awoke the next morning, other than she would have a pounding headache a possibly be in need of a trash can, but he knew he was going to be there for it.

And every morning after that.


End file.
